


Peace, If Not Quiet

by heroictype (swanreaper)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanreaper/pseuds/heroictype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cecil has a slow day, Carlos has a normal one, and it's going to be a good night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace, If Not Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> So like I had a really specific image that I couldn't draw. So I decided to write it, and that's what happens at the end.
> 
> (I'm doing a trade for the actual picture! So that should be fun! But for now, this.)
> 
> Normally I wait more than a day before posting these on AO3, but I think this is one of the gayest things I've ever written. Anyway they're going to wake up at like midnight, startled and kinda stiff, tripping over each other and trying to land kisses, and it'll be really cute.

It had been Cecil’s day off. He had spent it quietly, choosing mostly to occupy himself with woodcarving and tea, which he sometimes opted for if he got up at a reasonable hour and didn’t need to prop himself awake with artificial void. It was all quite pleasant, and he appreciated it as an experience. 

The pictures of his work that he posted actually got a few likes from urls he didn’t recognize, too. Always rewarding. If anyone asked, though, he definitely had not kept the post up on mobile just to look at the notifications. Nope.

* * *

Carlos had not had a day off. He had gone to his lab, and spent his time engaged in science. Mostly personal projects, but Tamika came in with some questions about momentum, and he’d had the pleasure of seeing Abby Palmer-Carlsberg, who was picking up some parts Janice ordered for her wheelchair. The rule was “no welding in the house” until she was sixteen, so she still had to outsource sometimes. Carlos looked forward to telling Cecil about the encounter.

They had a bit of trouble with some pomegranates that forgot about gravity and got stuck to the ceiling, but he was able to talk them down by reminding them that, as fruit, the laws of science clearly said gravity applied to them. So they had better get down right now, and behave scientifically. And then they did, so everyone was able to go home on time.

* * *

Carlos found Cecil sleeping on the couch, with his phone clutched to his chest and his head pillowed against the armrest. His legs were tucked up halfway, leaving just enough space for Carlos to sit down by his feet. One sock had been kicked almost off. Carlos tugged it back on.

“Hey, sunshine,” he whispered. He wasn’t necessarily intending to wake Cecil up, but if the other man was asleep so lightly, then it probably wouldn’t hurt much. They could always move to the bedroom, in that case.

“Mmm?” The noise didn’t quite indicate wakefulness, but maybe a fragment of awareness. 

“Oh, nothing in particular. How was your day?” Carlos answered, and ran his palm over Cecil’s calf. It was just the most accessible part of the other man’s body and he wanted some kind of contact.

“Fine… fine… Carlos? Mmgh? Mm!”

Faster than it should have been possible, Cecil sat up and flopped forward. He, at least, had no trouble trusting himself to gravity. Carlos caught him, and Cecil buried his face in the scientist’s chest. A button pressed into his cheek, but it was hard to worry about that compared to the texture of well-worn flannel and the warmth soaked into the fabric.

He breathed in. If Carlos had a scent, Cecil didn’t know it. Carlos only had the smell of chemicals, somehow thick even in traces, and this had become a familiar thing. It clung comfortably to the scientist’s perfect hair and gentle hands, until it faded into the bland air of the apartment.  

“Whoa! Okay!” Carlos laughed. He tightened his arms around Cecil’s lower back, and the radio host squeezed in return.

“Carlos!” Cecil stretched the name out, “ _Carloooos!_ ”

“Hi, Ceec!”

“Mmm, _Carlooooos_ …” Cecil continued to mush his face against the scientist’s chest, and nuzzled harder.

Carlos kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head. He didn’t put a limit on the kisses, but rather, just kept them coming as he spoke in between, “Aww, I’m glad… to see you, too…! Did you… miss me?”

“Mhm! Carlos, god… I love you…”

“Same, babe. Like, a lot. The most. Anyway, if you want, we can go to bed...?" Carlos rubbed Cecil's back idly.

"No, let's not. Let's stay right here. Please?"

"Sure, honey."

At some point, they turned on the TV, but neither of them gave it much attention. Cecil sprawled out over Carlos, tangling their legs together and leaning on him. Carlos ran his hand over his boyfriend's hair and up and down his back, and even when he fell still, he rested his palm over Cecil's spine. The vague mumbling from the TV, the shared pace of breathing, and the fading light - because moving to turn the lights on would have been far too much trouble, so no - led them both to sleep soon enough.


End file.
